Pressing Matters
by wahinetoa
Summary: Jack ponders Sawyer and AnaLucia with surprising results. Sana with hints of Jate. Oneshot. Final chptr up.
1. Chapter 1

Pressing Matters

by wahinetoa

Disclaimer: Lost belongs to ABC, Jeffrey Lieber and J.J. Abrams & Damon Lindelof. I credit Scouse for the inspiration.

Pairings: Sana, hints of Jate. implied Michael/Libby.

Rating: A little adult inuendo and possible language.

Spoilers: Post-What Kate Did. 2 - 4 weeks after.

AN: NZ hasn't got S2, so took information from transcripts and screencaps. Forgive any mistakes.

'_A tornado of woman,_' Jack grinned despite himself, as he observed the newest, if not most controversial member of the Flight815 survivor camp, Ana-Lucia, collect firewood at the far end of the beach.

Too far at the end, for his liking. That he would have ever given sanction to it, drew the young doctors usually ready smile and deep thoughts downward.

Since the unexpected return of the three missing rafters, with the tragic exception of the young Walt, Sawyers life-threatening condition, and the accidental killing of Shannon, it had changed the dynamics of the camp forever.

Within the jubilation of reunions, love found, friends returned and their group restored. It had also been a pall of love lost, grief, and anger, and placing of blame, a sense of unease had befallen the camp - at its center the enigmatic and quick to temper leader, Ana Lucia Cortez.

Despite the accounts of the harrowing atrocities and brutality suffered at the hands of the 'Others', or the compelling testimonies of Jin, Michael and Sawyer - who by all accounts had more than most to hold a grudge against the dark seething beauty - still spoke out in her defense. She'd shouldered enough burdens to qualify as an ally. However, notoriously blunt and often undiplomatic in her opinion, only served to endorse the sense of grievance within the camp. Regardless of her obvious remorse.

So damn close to sanctuary - so far from reaching it.

Her self imposed exile, had instantly brought a measure of calm to the already scolding uproar that had come on the heels of Shannon's accidental tragic death, news of Walts abduction and confirmation that they were not alone.

But it didn't sit well with him. If it came down to crimes committed on the island in unmitigated desperation, then perhaps Ana shouldn't be the only one driven into exile. His own inability to save Claire or Charlie from what Nathan had put them through, or his part with Sayid in Sawyers torture, perhaps even his mistakes with Kate, still stabbed at him. The realization that he had power over nothing, left him desperate and hollow, while still shouldering the greater weight of responsibility and blame for those still in his care. He saw that keenly in Ana, bonding him to her in a way that was immediate and compelling. Yet for all his influence, and argument, her fate lay with just one man.

Sayid.

In the weeks of mourning, the Iraqi man remembered how he'd found clemency with Sawyer after the torture, as much as with Shannon's love much later. In time, he went to Ana and granted her the same gift. The chance for a new start. Like the island seemed to be giving everyone else. It was not easy for him, or for most of his people to do, but from their own experinces on this island - no individual pedalstool remained untoppled.

A few days after, Ana moved to the end of the beach. By then, rumors of Sayids inevitable reprieve created a thaw between his people & the fascinating exleader. At least they tried to get closer, but always one to abhor sentimentality, she was as frost bitten and detached as Sawyer had been.

Yet it was to the southern charmer, that Jack, bitterly, attributed her surprising metamorphosis. His pigheaded perseverance and dimpled smile had eaten away at her resistance to be nearer the camp. Or perhaps to those that cared for her.

Michael had revealed that the both of them had a strange affinity edged by antagonism, since the moment they had laid eyes on each other. His banter and easy charm seemed to annoy her at first, but exasperation at his hustler come ons, spoke to the streetfighter in her. Her I-got-your-number smirk, matching the same smoldering arrogant prowess he tried to bully her with. Brought back the fight in her eyes.

In someway, Jack had hoped he would've been that reason. But even with their strange affiliation as leaders on this island of mystery, he had no right to try since he and Kate had gotten together.

His eyes traveled the distance to where Ana stooped to pick up more driftwood, shuffling the heavy load with one arm. Suddenly an eagerness to help her reach, once again for home, overwhelmed him. Jack took a shaky step forward, hand reaching out, his voice garnering the strength to call.

That sound, swallowed by anothers.

"Ain't she somethin'," Sawyer offered huskily, momentarily startling Jack from his thoughts, hands frozen in their act. The infuriating Lothario stood beside him, those relentless cobalt eyes settling, rather too intimately on Ana, for Jacks liking. "Rambina got spunk."

Yes, she did. But he wasn't about to discuss her redeeming qualities with the likes of him. Sawyer didn't know how to keep out of others personal space, especially when it came to captivating, strong willed hellion females like Ana was. It was the same look the blond got with Kate. That thought making Jacks blood simmer.

"I thought I told you to stay at the bunker till I'm done with your check up." Jack bit out crossly, folding his arms in front of his chest, scowling as Sawyer made his obvious attraction to Ana plain to see.

Sawyer just shrugged his shoulders, best he could given that one of them was in a sling, and no doubt giving him grief still. None of that seemed to matter as the Southerner preferred to watch Miss Cortez ramble up the beach with an arm full of driftwood, than answer Jacks query.

Irritation and some other emotion sluicing through Jacks hammering veins at the mans bloody gall. Ever since the camps resident hustler had awoken and remained in recovery, his daily routine had been to flirt with Kate, pick the lock to the food hold and inquire about the beautiful but tempestuous exiled leader. For some unknown reason, the blond had taken quite a shine to her. Which only irked Jack more.

At that moment she lifted her gaze to lock with Jacks, across the distance, sharing a respectful camaraderie. All at once caught by her strength and fire,awe turned to what could have been, and the change did not go unnoticed.

"Not your place anymore, Doc." Sawyer chided the brooding physician. Jack snapped from his state and narrowed his gaze at the man who pushed his buttons more than anyone on the island.

On the entire known earth.

"Don't know what you're talking about," he snapped contentiously. At the blond mans knowing smirk, Jack snatched up his medical bag and fumbled with the clasps, frantic to cover any emotion the hustler could use to his future advantage.

"You better be here for your checkup," he bit out finally, surprised by the futility in his own voice.

Sawyer chuckled. 'In a minute, Jacquline. Got me a pressing matter first.'

Before Jack could restrain him, warn him off or smack him square in the jaw, Sawyer swaggered across the brief distance to her. Those broad shoulders, chiseled features and the brooding steely blue eyes that could dismantle any female at a 100paces, was apparently intent on making his way into Ana-Lucias life whether she liked it or not. Damned if Jack knew what to do about it.

It didn't matter that Jack and Kate had chosen each other in the weeks that Sawyer had been missing in action, that their choices were still as strong even with his return.

Ana was not the kind of woman you easily forgot. But then..

**Some things weren't meant to be.**

He felt Kate's arms slide around him, her face pressing into his shoulder, against the nape of his neck.

"How are you?" she whispered softly. Speaking of much more than his health and well-being. _How are you with them,_ was her real question.

He held her close, hoping she would feel the answer as well as hear it.

"Content now that you're in my arms," he replied honestly, leaning down to catch her lips quickly. "And you?"

The light in her eyes left no doubt as she reached up, her fingers against the buzz on his jaw, watching him sigh in contentment at the gesture.

"Exactly where I belong."

Jack smiled back, caught in her eyes and knew.

**Some things were.**

"Hey Rambina," he drawled happily, ""Yo' wanna hand with that, or do you want to get arms like a lumber jac-- er, mountie?"

Her head raised, eyes hooded and guarded. Despite her snort of amusement and the accompanying smile, it nearly broke Sawyers heart.

He'd been in two minds about the stubborn and feisty Chikita brave. He'd learned the importance of settling old scores, out in the old world, and where the acrimonious Miss Cortez was concerned, it was well overdue. Her indifference had nearly cost him his life. A man don't forget a thing like that. But if Sayid could do it, then what right did he have to hold a grudge over his shoulder? The indignity of being smacked down by a pertinent female, no less, in front of his companions. Male companions, who could rabbit on about the incident, to obviously an enraptured audience, once they got back. He had a reputation to uphold.

It didn't help none, that he found the witch more appealing 'cause of it.

He should have slapped her when he had the chance too. Deiu, he'd had enough dreams about throwing the hot-blooded woman across his lap and spanking the living heck out of her sumptuous behind, while he was stuck in recovery, to know how to go about it. Mind you, not all those spanking fantasties were strickly for her benefit. He'd dismissed them as a consequence of being stuck in perpetual abstinace on the island. But even after a few inventive ways of relieving the tension, those persistant images still brought a gut-grinding sensual assault, and he almost bit off his tongue to keep himself from groaning. What was with him and fierce, forbidden andhauntedwomen?

Sawyer swallowed the sudden need to confess such desires, struggling to rein in his emotions.

"What's it to you, cream puff?" she grinned back, oblivious to his state of mind, a slight growl to her query. Back straight, daring him to give any voice to what she considered too close to pity, suddenly showing in his eyes.

Such a challenge never fazed him, as he strode closer to her. Closer than anyone but Eko or Jack dared, no doubt with him, because she had taken a greater portion of blame for his condition. Still, the pugnacious rottweiler of woman, told him with the flash of her jet black eyes and severe expression just how close he could get - before her tried-and-mightily-tested Thors hammer right hook came into play.

"Nothin' much," Sawyer offered lightly, managed to wrangle a few bits of wood from her, giving the wayward female leader a smug grin, before turning her away from the good doctors scrutiny and back towards Anas camp site.

"Just like to know exactly whose muscled arms will be sliding around me tonight." he smirked, staring at her forearms pointedly, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Ana spun on her heel, to kick at him with the toe of her boot, but scuffed a hill of sand, jarring her precarious hold on the fire wood, which fell clatteringly to the sandy floor, making her jump back in surprise. Perhaps more so flustered by her sudden clumsiness.

Apparently, this amused the heck out of the smirking reprobate, who rolled his head back, and dared to laugh at her.

"Damn woman," he bit out in amusement, gaze settling on her, twinkling. "Didn' know I could get you so flustered!"

The arrogant so-and-so.

"Yeh? Well, I'm not the one getting all macho posessive in front of Jack." she smirked back, her I-got-yourr-number smirk wiping the smug look from his face.

Ah, so she noticed did she? His grin was back in place, quicker than she could fathom

"Had your eyes on me, did ya, Xena? " His victorious smile, making her snort derisively, before stooping to gather her bundle. "By all means, sister, take your sweet time. There's a lot here to take in."

Ana tried but failed to bite back the chuckle of mirth, escaping her lips. He fancied himself rotten, and she took increasing pleasure in knocking the hot-air from his sails.

"Not from where I'm looking." She gaped up at him, eyes glimmering in the golden light of sunset. He marvelled at the ease with which they bantered.

What had changed over the many weeks between them, neither could say. But something fundamental definitely had. If the sudden molten tension was anything to go by, he suspected that neither of them had prepared for it.

Uncomfortable with the change she read in his eyes, she shook herself mentally, and got back to her work. It would do no good to dwell on such things.

_"You don't deserve hope, Ana."_ she told herself, harshly.Even as her heart stuttered in defense.

With burning cheeks, Sawyer knelt beside her, not sure himself of the inexplicable chemistry that had sprung up between them. Just knowing that Ana-Lucia Cortez was no consolation prize, and that someway he would show her that.

"Can do it myself, cowboy." she growled, a hint of annoyance at its core. More at herself than him, as she swatted his hand away in trying to help. Afraid of what lay behind those teasing, taunting smiles of his of late.

He eyed her skeptically, grin tolerant.

"So you reckon, cupcake." he smiled back, "But what's a day for a girl, without a lill' Tennessee beefcake?" Those lauded blue eyes sparkling at her in a way that she couldn't help but glare at him again, no real ire in it.

"Full of it, ain't ya," she simmered, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

He merely winked in reply, satisfied with the lighter mood. In the comfortable silence, neither were really in a hurry to finish their task. Using the dusky ambers, paling of blues to indigo pools of evening, to mask their hesitant gathering of fallen branches, enjoying each others comradeship. Her senses drifted outward, across the dunes. Survival instinct, never off, she took in the few tallies on the beach. Bernard and his beloved Rose, talking to Charlie. Eko and the extraordinary Locke fella getting chummy. Sayid stood beside them, listening continually, his wary and suspicious gaze driven towards her, every now and then. Taking her measure with the intensity of a man who still considered her the paradox, the loose cannon. In his coal black orbs, the remaining question; **_"Why did you take from me, this; that I most loved_**?" A question so achingly, excruciatingly unanwsered after her miscarriage, she had to physically close her eyes to block it out. Somewhere Claires baby cried, Ana snapping her head up, seeking. Libby and Michael cradling the child as Claire and Hurley reset the cot in the shade.

Her distraction or the poignant look didn't go unnoticed. Sawyers gaze followed hers, frowning when it rested, mistakenly on the happy couple. The twist in his belly told him he wasn't completely immune to freckles as he'd liked to have believed. Not immune, but a hell of a lot wiser. He refused to linger on them a moment longer and returned his gaze to the abnormally silent woman beside him.

It pained him to think she still felt something for the doctor do-right. For reasons he wasn't ready to examine closely.

"Ain't yo' true love, cupcake."

His husky drawl brought Ana back from pained memories. She bit down on her lip, an interesting fragile habit that he'd honest to God didn't think she had. Vulnerable, was not a word to describe the solemn femme fatale.

Mysterious. Intriguing. Infuriating. Mad as a bleedin' hatter.

Out from under the tyranny of the 'others', had slowly erased the sole borne weight of leadership, leaving the shell of the woman who had become so alone, she had thrown herself from even possibility of being rescued. The ache of its familiarizes acutely felt by him, arousing his protective nature.

"I guess not." she offered after a time, not wanting to reveal what truly lay behind the look he had attributed to Jack. Noted the melancholy in his own manner, since returning. Knew why. "An' yours?"

Sawyer looked one final time towards the brunette, Happier and more content than he'd ever seen her. before shifting his gaze to the dark eyed temptress beside him. "Gone to better."

He looked away, pained by his own admission. Scuffed the sand with the toe of his boot. "Apparently."

He had often relied on his guileless boyish grin for effect, but this close to him now, she could see it didn't line up with the jaded look in his eyes. A soft smile touched her lips, understood too well their depth and meaning.

"I wouldn't go an' say all that, cowboy."

His gaze narrowed on her, looking for any sign of pity or mocking insincerity, and finding nothing but a sure understanding and a hint of something more. Something that drove a spark through him, and he felt himself smiling back. Intrigued. Delighted.

"That so?" he smirked, head tilting fetchingly. "Wanna list the reasons, or should I just show you mine?"

She looked at him, biting back her amusement. "Be a small list."

Sawyer angled his powerful body closer, tempting fate. "Nothing about me, chica," he murmured cockily, "Is ever 'small'"

The unusual awkwardness returned. Settling an ache in her belly, warning her how close she had let him in.

"The list," she clarified, pretended indifference. "Just got smaller."

He raised his eyebrow, a touch of male indignance creasing his brow, his breath fanning hot and intimate against her cheek, along her sable jaw. "How small?"

The male sexuality of him subsided, replaced by his demand. She sighed, grateful. "One remaining trait."

He cocked an eyebrow in silent query. When it reaped a wickedly drawn out silence, he narrowed his smug sapphire bright gaze laughing. As if he could read the answer. And frankly, knew it all along.

"You better know it, sister!"

Her disbelieving bark of laughter, at this, managed to draw curious looks from the scattered few on the beach.

He was a little shocked himself. Did she even know the effect she had on him? The hellion that was embedded in his reluctant memory, wasn't the creature before him. Her face warms, opens out like a soft bronze flower, calls to the lion-fierce protectiveness in him.

Along with other male instincts he'd better curb. His sake as well as hers.

Jacks voice interrupted whatever else he wanted to brag about, confess. Sawyers gaze shrunk in on the doctor, sharing a rival stare. Behind him, Kate was making her way down the beach with Sun, no doubt on their way to the gardens. Jack stood, glaring at them - or more likely him, in particular - mouth grim, hands splayed on his hips.

Sawyer groaned. His check up.

"Doc has the worst timing I know of," he sourly muttered, before brushing off his jeans and cautiously levered himself off the sand with his good arm, and reached down awaiting her hand.

"Tell you what, chica. You wake me up Manana and we can 'revise' that list o'yours." he grinned at her as she hauled herself, and her load up beside him, refusing his hand. More out of independence than a slight.

"I'll bring the beer -- you be the chippy." he concluded.

Last thing she needed was the Tennesse cowboy continuing this strange conversation. But the look he gave her left her breathless, wired. It told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to give up on her. Her heart thrummed. She swallowed hard.

"Whatever." Dammit. She sounded breathless. He smiled triumphantly, telling her all she needed to know.

He was challenging more than just her ability as a sparring partner - and that scared her more than she would admit.

Sawyer read it in her eyes, conceding for now. With no more than a sweeping gentlemanly bow, he was off towards the glowering doctor and the curious crew.

She could just imagine the dimpled grin on his face, deriding their questioning gazes with the trademark swagger.

Her appreciative chuckle followed him down the beach. Head tilted, as her gaze slid from the back of his head, that wind tussled mane of blond, across his granite heavy shoulders, down that straight back and settled contentedly a bit lower. Faded, scratched and sand paintedblue denim gloriously hugging the coiled tight muscles beneath. Pressing, hardand full.

Voluptuous lips quirked of their own accord, mentally adding to the cowboys list.

"Might just make that two."

The End


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thankyou for the reviews, they inspired to draw a little more angst between our two lovebirds. For all Sana fans. I hope that you like the final chapter.

* * *

**Chapter2**

For a whole week he seethed. The caramel dark witch caused more drama than was humanly possible, yet, here he was - worried about _her_. Of all people.

Ana bloody Lucia Cortez.

Staring at the empty spot where her campsite had once been and was no more since a week ago, knotted his belly inside out. Damned if he wasn't privileged to know where she'd got too.

His mind plunged back to a week before.

Hope had flickered through him at their last meeting that day gathering firewood on the beach. She'd flirted with him, taking the sting out of her replies enough to sound almost playful.

A burgeoning interest in his fierce diva spoke to his male ego. Wanted to be the reason she smiled, laughed and opened up to.

She posed an impossible mystery to him. Something intriguing and defiant to wile away his hours - unraveling. When she had become more, he couldn't say.

At the bunker, he'd waited through the torturous checkup with Jackfrosty fingers. The blasted doctor taking his sweet time - didn't want his rival to get back to Ana as quick, did he? Then it was too late to make the trip back to the beach. Endured the night at the caves, only to be delayed by Claires baby, Aaron, who couldn't be consoled by anyone until he read something.

By the time he made it to the beach again, it was well into evening. Her fire was burning down the way, but he was too knackered to make the walk.

By morning, he decided to play it cool. Didn't want to seem too eager - like some half-wit anxious to get laid. No. He was suave - a player. _**Women came to him.**_ Not the other way around. When she failed to do so, his confidence in knocking the ice-queens chip off kilter, sank to an all time low.

Her avoidance had altered the script.

Was she trying to taunt him with the hope she had unintentionally sparked in him, and found reciprocated, in her dark and now deceptive eyes?

For damned sure, she had been cagey enough to skip off hunter-stylin' with baldly. No chance of him getting his hands on a straight answer. Or her.

He wanted an explanation, but hell if she was giving him one. Giving him anything, since she wasn't around to give it. Having tossed a turned the fourth night in a row, with no sign of her, he'd had enough. Stomped down to the end of the beach, had a belly full of insults and raging hormones to let loose -

Camp gone and the nymph who once occupied it. And this is where he'd been positioned since. A daily ritual of scowling and teeth-grinding awaiting her return. Like some lovesick puppy...

Sawyer growled under his breath, staring daggers at the empty spot. What trouble had she gotten her pretty little neck up into?

A gentle voice pulled him from wayward thoughts.

"You're worried about her."

Kate. He raised an impervious eyebrow, accompanied by a tempting smile that for a moment, erased any leftover tension since her defection to the Doctor-do-right.

"She owes me, Freckles." he stated, trying to diffuse the insinuation of her previous statement. "I collect my debts."

"Hmpf." The brunette snorted, drawing his blue eyes to sapphire pins.

"You don't like her, do you, kitten?"

She shrugged, not sure of the answer. "She's bossy, patronizing and reckless. What's not to love?"

Sawyer chuckled at her dry sarcasm with his own. "Ain't she just?"

Kate turned her widened gaze on him. He was impressed? "You care what happens to her."

What a question. Just two weeks, and he'd become stricken by the obstinant beauty. Her quiet rage and sullen mood swings, and such a sadness in her that pulled at him - did he care for her, the way Kate meant it?

"Why Sweetheart," his sexy, easy grin slid into place, mostly to ward off Kates tenacious curiosity, "You gettin' a might envious?"

She avoided the question like a detested relative. "Didn't think you'd notice with all the drama.."

She motioned with one hand to the semi disarray of the beach, and those few who struggled to clean up the strewn belongings left along the beach.

Ah, the piglet boars. They'd been coming into camp more of late and wrecking merry havoc. Locke had volunteered to do some hunting and trapping, and for reasons no one could fathom, had taken Ana with him. Not only had she accepted this, - she who got lost on their second day trekking through the jungle to the camp - but left without saying nary a word to anyone about it. The rest of the camp found out, when they woke to find them both gone.

He lifted his shoulders in a bare shrug. "Ain't as wild as some creatures here, curls." He reached over and gently placed an errant lock of brunette behind her ear. Smiling at their shared memory of the rampaging Polar Bear and a vengeful boar.

She smiled invitingly up at him, adopting their friendly banter once again. Almost. Jack and Ana swung between them like an axe, a path not taken.

"Sun got some new greens for the beach to try this evening, if you want to come with." Kate offered, trying to cull the emotion of regret.

Invitation open, he cast a final glance at the empty spot once more, before turning back to the brunette. A dimpled grin in place that could melt butter. He'd eat, flirt, and get as much information as he could get.

"Neveh turned down a beautiful womans invite," he salaciously grinned, throwing a friendly arm about her shoulder as they made their way towards the camp. Whatever happened now was not entirely up to fate or the islands mysterious shenanigans - this time his fingerprints were gonna be all over it.

Cause all in all, he wasn't through with Miss Cortez by a long shot.

**

* * *

**

Early morning primordial light spilled down through ancient jungle canopy into the thick fern and brush, slivers of light falling on them like a soft rain.

John Locke stretched from his crouching position near the fire, easing out sore muscles and tendons from the long nights sleep on rough ground. Taking in their surroundings with a keen eye.

They'd made camp on the summit of a mountain almost a few miles from the rest of the 815 survivors, setting traps and deterrents for the marauding boars in the valley below. Miss Cortez had proved herself able, regardless of her insistence otherwise. Together they found flint stones in the rock face, and climbing higher, had discovered new bush vegetables, a wealth of unusually large game birds, roots and berries to replenish their dwindling hatch stocks as well as Suns growing garden. A productive venture to be sure.

He looked to his quiet companion, gathering the containers used for preserving, ready for transport. In just a week she had began to transform. Of course most of that change was due to the greater distance they got from camp, from the accusing glares and whispers, the lighter and more agile she became. Her eyes no longer held the frantic look of the hunted. Defiance, yes. Determination, always. But her body lean and taut, no longer held the jarringly mechanical movements of a battle traumatized leader. She still had the look of a woman possessed when it came to trap building - seeing as she dug a pit on her own on the other side of the island - and the fundamentals of tracking which he took pleasure in teaching her. Reluctantly, his memory called up Boone. He'd made many mistakes with his young charge. Mistakes he regretted. But one thing about this island was, there was always a chance for redemption. She'd had enough course in learning that since her return.

The Island would take no more from her, he was sure. It was time for her to get something in return, and he hoped it would be soon.

"We should be able to clear and pack up the traps this morning, and return to the others this afternoon."

Ana hesitated in her actions of packing, contemplating what he had said. They were returning to Jack.. and Sayid. Two men she owed through the tragic killing. Jack seeing her with damned pity and disappointment. Sayid with loss and longing. And Sawyer. The look he gave scared her the most. It spoke of hope, and something that could unravel the pain and loss.

She didn't glance up at Locke, but rather nodded once in agreement, setting about her work again. Heart aching.

Locke secured the hunting belt about his waist, abruptly becoming still, his senses on alert. From the dark cover of shadows, his eagle eyes picked out a crouched form. Human. Male.

Blond.

* * *

He watched her and was torn. Wondered what he could say to persuade her from this solitary and familiar destructive path, or ask in return that he could hold fast too other than past regret or the strange yearning kinship to her, that had grown in her absence. 

But his anger at having her abandon whatever they had begun stung him. The feelings pushed each other around vying for top billing.

In the midst of it all, John Locke stood like a sentinel. Brooding. Diligent. Eyes fixed on him like a spotlight. Should have known he couldn't hide from the hunter. Ana had yet to notice their impasse - the challenge. Better that way, Sawyer wasn't sure he could handle them both.

Right. John could veto this unexpected quest of his. Deny him any chance - and he'd have the right, 'cause _Sawyer_ was known for doing a lot of harm - but he'd hoped that the hunter had seen in her the same heart he; himself, had denied he'd had. Before someone cared to dig deeper. He'd always owe freckles for that. He wanted to be that for Ana. He respected her for surviving all this time, for enduring, and she deserved a home with them. Shoring up his resolve, he stood up and faced Johns unwavering, suspicious glare.

Johns eyes constricted in the light. Sawyer could have been a statue if not for the latent energy he emanated. The two mens gazes locked, held fast. Each man taking the measure of the other.

Locke was a man not to be trifled with, on any occasion, but least of all when it came to those he considered friends. Which apparently, included Ana. Sawyer stood straighter then, elevated his chin ready for whatever happened. He'd not humped it up this hill to turn tail and slink off. The hunter silently questioned the young mans motives.

_Why? Why now?_

Sawyer couldn't answer yet. He hardly knew himself. But he was here, for the fierce Ana. Was that enough?

Locke seemed to accept it. Gave a cursory nod, before turning his attention back to Ana.

"Right," John broke their companionable silence, her dark eyes peering up at him as he spoke. "Won't be a moment. Nature calls."

She seemed hesitant at first, forehead corrugated as if she had sensed something questionable about the statement. Finally she conceded, giving the man trust enough to allow him whatever space he needed.

"Four minutes," she managed to put authority in her requirement. "Then I'm coming in after you."

John actually flushed at her candor. His grin wide and bright.

"I'll try and remember that," he laughed quietly, turning and heading into the forest without acknowledging either one of his new charges. She watched him go, mentally counting the minutes. Something in his manner and tone alerting her to a inexplicable change - but what?

"Now yo' Daddy gone," a deep southern voice growled so close to her, she jumped in surprise. ".. wanna fool around?"

* * *

She shot up from her crouch like a rocket, rigid back, breathing fire. His belly tightened, drove a hunger into his blood and bone and quivering flesh. God he missed her. 

"Sawyer," she exclaimed, swallowing obscenities left right and center, "What are you doin' here--" Wide eyes narrow suspiciously. "Are you out of your mind followin' me?"

"Maybe," He met her fire with calculated defiance. "We need to talk."

"Not the place or time, Blondie." She growled admonishing, how many times did she have to repeat herself that the jungle ain't a place for a chat. "Haven't you learnt that yet?"

"You'd be surprised what I've learnt since meeting you, kitten." The gently harassing smile was familiar, but his serious tone spoke of something else. "You don't have to be here."

Yeh, right.

"Never mind why **I'm** here! How did **you** get here?"

"Walked."

Smart ass. "Who brought you here, because you sure as hell can't track..."

"--Says the girl who got lost on our second day back..."

Patience vanished. "Who. Sawyer!"

He remained infuriatingly silent, that knowitall smirk making her fists itch. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement, head swinging to the left and saw the mahogany dark hunter. His eyes meeting hers across the distance, a sort of apologetic grin warring bright in the darkness. Her glower hardened further, mouth curling into a snarl, as he soon disappeared into the forest again, interrupting the oncoming tirade she had more than ready.

"This ain't over Ecko," she hissed after him. "I'll deal with you later."

Sawyer jumped into her personal space. "Better deal with me first, Chica."

Oh. That flipped her switch. She turned on him in a heartbeat. He wasn't surprised.

"You," she railed angrily poking a finger in his chest. "You get your arrogant ass down.."

".. in the nicest of ways, ahm sure."

Teeth gritted at his insolence. ".. down.. this.. mountain, before I chuck it down."

That smirk was back, ready to take the offer. But Ana's rigid back and cold scowl told him he walked precarious ground. He changed tactic.

"So," he stalled, leaning into the trunk of a tree with his shoulder, eyes hooded. Unreadable. "You and Elmer?"

She ignored his statement, since he obviously ignored hers.

"Did you hear what I just said, hustler?" she demanded, hands balled at her sides. "By the way - you call Locke that again and I'll bust you in the mouth so hard, it'll wake your dentist."

He didn't doubt it. "I recall you making the same threat before, Rambina." he faked a meancing grin. "Remember mine?"

Her eyes clouded. Knew he could make good on it, if he wanted. If she let him. Ana looked as though she seriously considered it.

"You got something to say, hotblooded?"

Plenty. But he chose his words carefully.

"Had himself another prodigy," he ventured. "Got him killed."

"Told me," she frostily informed him. "Accident. Don't need your take on things."

Eyes that knew her drilled past her defenses. Reaching stone walled silence.

"Do yourself a favor then," he elaborated, sarcasm laced ire. "Don't go into any drug planes."

A muscle kicked at her jaw to yet another slur to the hunter, but she held her tongue between sharp teeth. Willing to bite it clean off, rather than give him the satisfaction of rooting under her skin.

For a long awkward moment they stared at each other, trying to discern the strange twist to their stand off. It almost sounded he was concerned for her safety. Did he come out here to save her? Or gloat she was out of her depth again? She took a step back, uncomfortable with her thoughts.

She dismissed him with a scowl, projecting to shift him down the same route he'd come up. "Ecko went that way..so move your ass.."

For the first time he complied willingly to her orders - in an instant was so close to her, that she felt his heat envelope her. Challenged her on all levels as a woman.

"Don't have ta tell me twice." Dimples in both cheeks winking at her in the sun.

Awareness of him sizzled through her. He was doing it again - offering her something tangible to hold to, like he did back on the beach so many days ago. And she had been afraid then, as now, when he hadn't come to her the next day, or the days after that. Had he realized she wasn't worth the hope he'd so charmingly given her? She couldn't risk getting involved in someone else's life on this island. She'd failed so many it would be better if she disappeared. This opportunity with Locke could let her slip away. As it turned out, he was about as cunning as Ecko. Her plans for complete exile, axed by the ever vigilant hunter. As time went on, they'd shared knowledge of the 'others' and discovered some interesting correlation's to help them in their rescue. Ana found her feet.

Great lotta good it would do, if Blondie here could sweep her off them.

She stared past his shoulder, reminding them both of not being alone. "Locke should be back soon."

Was the arrogant bastard squelching a smile?

Adroitly, he shifted into her view. "Never mind about Poppa Bear, Chica. Why are you running from us?"

She shored up her resistance, the need to flee or fight like hell.

"Back off, Sawyer," He was too close, and instinct took over. "There is no 'us'," she growled warningly, shoving him.

Big Mistake. The instant they touched it was like electricity. instantaneous. The wanton ache that flowed from him to her and back again. Shocked by the intensity,the incrediable pull drawing hersmack right into Sawyers broad chest. She reared back as if burnt. His muscled arms shot out to grip her forearms to stop her stumbling backward.

"Easy chere," he drew her closer to him, not sure of what excuse he could use that would require doing so. "I've got you."

He stared down into her eyes, mouth dry with the same reaction as she was, apparently. There was no use in denying it any longer.

"Can't do that, Rambina," he whispered, referring back to her previous request. "I reckon we both know that now."

He surprised her then, backing her up against the coiling trunk of a large tree, pressed into her tight. eyes peering into hers, interrogation style.

"What are you afraid of?"

She groped for an answer that would satisfy them both. Came with nothing that mattered a damn when he was looking at her, like no man had ever looked at her like that before. Even when she was madly in love, had she ever looked at him like he was looking at her right now.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the entire universe had narrowed to just his intense, bright blue eyes, and Ana caught her breath. A depth to drown in, she struggled to remember to take another breath. And another.

Done with denying himself any longer, he lent down and in. Blond locks falling around them like a curtain, brushing against her face, the round of her cheek and exposed nape of her neck. She had time to move, if she wanted too. She didn't.

One hand at the small of her back, the other cupping her chin, tilting it upwards, Sawyer claimed her mouth with his whisker-bitten own, hard and male, and very adept. Gentle and soft, in its plea and breathy benediction, she found herself clinging to him out of need. Her legs would not hold her. He gladly took the slight weight, pressed her further, closer. Grew enamoured, tasting her bottom lip, full and berry ripe, with the tip of his ardent tongue. Smoothing the seam of her mouth, testing. Making his purpose known. Only when she went rigid, began to squirm free, dispute it and him, did his kiss go deeper, his hand at the back of her head, mastering her. His tongue pushing past the barrier of her denial. Her hands; unusually still in this battle of wills, caught in his shirt, an acrimonious fist to push him away. But intimacy had a way of disclaiming all she fought to enforce. The other, reaching for his hand at her back, to rent it from warming her skin, evoking a tremble in her that he relished. Craved. Suddenly, she found her body lifted, pressed to the unyielding surface of the tree, placed and held there by the strong body of this fascinating male.

Her hand trapped over his. The moan she had been resisting, rumbling from her throat in a hungry desperation. His reaction was immediate.

Sawyers kiss became passionate, desperate - basking in her warmth, her heat and desire. Words and breath denied to them, for actions and want and need to touch and be touched.

The moment she gave, the fight went out of her, accepting what he said was true, knew it as such, he reluctantly released her. Frightened himself, how easily he could get lost. Stepped back, breathing heavily for someone who hadn't meant to do that.. but dreamt it more than he'd ever admit too. Helplessly he ran his tongue over his lips, tasting the sharp spice of her.

Wanting to taste her again. He willed himself to let her come to him.

"There's everything in life - but hope." she responded regretfully, thinking of her unborn baby. What could have been if not for actions of fear and desperation. Had seen it reflected in Sayids face the night she killed Shannon. She looked back up into Sawyers eyes, had to warn him - people like her and Sayid grieved because of love.

"We're alive, Ana." He murmured, held her gaze. "After all they tried to do. We've survived." He leaned into her, jaw caressing her soft cheek, imprinting himself there - with touch. "Seems to me, that's hope enough."

And she wasn't ready for him. Not for his words and the depth of sincerity - said without sarcasm, rebuke or bitterness. Said simply, honestly and with knowing it, heartbreakingly, himself.

He brought his hands up slowly, and she felt a warm tingle indent itself through her skin as his hands cupped her face. Drew her closer. She could not look away.

"Whadd'ya say Ana? Is this enough to hope for?"

Ana tried not to think of hope and Sawyer in one breath, but it was hard. He'd come all this way - for her. Had endured the same isolation and now offered her something possible. Hopeful. For her. She closed her eyes, relinquishing her answer with a sigh against his lips.

* * *

Two days later. 

He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off the far end of the beach for two days straight. Hurley and Charlie had exchanged knowing glances, not daring to share their humor with the rest of the group, though to be sure - they were well aware of the Southern mans longing.

He flipped over, pounded the airline pillow scavenged long ago, like most of his possessions in his tent, and tried to get to comfy. Nothing.

Sighing frustratedly, he levered himself up on his elbow glared at nothing in particular as his two companions gossiped about the latest goings-on since he and Ecko had returned - without the other MIAs.

Locke had returned on his own, Ana and Ecko had been at the hatch in talks with Jack and Michael in rescuing Walter day and night. A hunting party was to be organized soon. Since then, he'd not seen hide nor hair of her.

He pitted his powers of persuasion against her guilt-resistance and come up flailing. Had he crossed the line by kissing her? He placed his fingertips against his lips, pressing the memory of her there. Yes, most likely. Did he regret it?

Not one bit. He wasn't gonna beg though. He'd given her the chance.. with him.. with coming home.. and now it was up to her. He made it clear that if she accepted one, she accepted them both.

"Libby!" A shrieking growl pierced the usual morning calm. "If you say one. more. word..."

"Wot the 'ell was that!" Charlie hissed, all immediately on edge and anxious, turning towards the voices.

His head snapped up. Their eyes met. Sawyers jaw hit the sand. Ana emerged a few meters down the beach. Intent on him. Libbys voice startled her back to her bullish companion but not before his eyes burned with male satisfaction.

"Jus' saying," Libby responded huffily, somewhat amused. "You wanna share my tent since you're moving back, or do you got another one in mind?"

The therapists gaze flickered along to him, suggestively, before returning to the fuming Latino female trying to out stride her. Leave her behind.

"That, kids, is the delicate sound of thunder." Sawyer favored his companions with a killer grin. Stood, then, shaking off the sand and ambled slowly to meetRambina half way.

Sawyer dared to chuckle as Analucias voice, escalated towards Libbys insinuations. Fed up, Ana shoved her tarp and meager possessions into Libbys arms, swiveled back and marched towards him, a knowing smile forming his lips. It struck him so completely, that he nearly gaped openly at her. He knew what she intended, and to hell with the stares - she was amped to get it.

He wasn't about to tell her no.

Charlie looked at him like he was mad.

"Where are you going?"

"Got me some pressing matters, boys." Sawyer smirked at his companions, winking over his shoulder. Hope and joy reaching his eyes in a long time, taking her in with everything he allowed himself to be. Because as he knew from the first time they kissed... and the second one, darn near barreling its fiery way towards him now...

"Lots of pressing. Matters."

And welcomed his Ana home.

**_The End._**


End file.
